


Here's How I'm Feeling

by LMarie



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 09:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13144002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMarie/pseuds/LMarie
Summary: a short coming of age story.





	Here's How I'm Feeling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yeahyouresocool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeahyouresocool/gifts).



> Merry Christmas! I worked on this silently since September and I had Bee help me out and I'm so thankful for that. I hope you let these characters into your hearts, like you have made your way into mine.  
> I'm so happy we met.

November 22

I woke up this morning at 3 am with a headache and the most painful twist in my small intestine. This really ruined my plans to masturbate.

I'm sure you can see the problem here, if you can't that's fine because at this moment I am just a plain white paper and just a plain black ball point .5 gel pen so you can't really relate to me on any given physical and physiological level.

But whatever, it's fine.

When I woke up from the discomfort in my abdominal cavity, I stared straight up into the complete and overwhelming darkness that engulfed my room. I couldn't even see the glow in the dark stars. I debated for about a good twenty minutes whether or not I should get up to somehow make my way through the large shadow that engulfed my room to get a cup of dusty water I left on the bedside table a week ago.

In the end I decided to risk my life to get a fresh drink of water. Once I got it I forced it down my trachea, and made my way back to my bed.

I crawled in and let the pain go on for maybe three hours.

Or until my school alarm went off, the sun blinded me through the windows, and the irritating clanking of coffee mugs from my sister, Natalie.

So, all you need to know at this precise point in my very unfortunate life is: I was dying. Of course, since it was important that I Inform Natalie of my state, I found myself walking downstairs.

It was hot, uncomfortable, and the burning urge to vomit was raised to astronomical heights. But I aggressively put on my favorite black sweater, considering that the world stops for no man and I still had to get ready for school.

I walked downstairs at my own careful pace, the heavy nausea that settled in my gut made me ready to punch someone in the face. I was hot, uncomfortable, and still had the burning desire to throw up. Fucking radical.When I walked in Natalie looked up from where she watched CNN with a frown.

“Good morning,”

“My stomach is trying to murder me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I woke up at 3 am and my stomach wanted to commit homicide or something, but I guess it settled for making my life more worse than it already is.”

A concerned look crossed Natalie’s face as she got up, like this had happened before. Like she knew my stomach was a sociopathic organ system.

“What part of your abdominal hurts?” She walked over to put her hand on my forehead. Her cold and clammy hand made me more nauseous.

“I'm not doing this with you.”

“I'm not going to know unless you tell me.”

I gave a curt sigh and looked at her as she moved around to the corner to the pantry in our small kitchen.

“My deep, medial but slightly distal abdominopelvic cavity.”

Natalie laughed, turning to me, sticking her head out of the closest. “Don't be a smart ass.”

She got out tea packets that I didn't even ask for.

“Want tea?”

“Not really.”

She ignored and started to steep the chamomile tea (AKA, the most grotesque tea you could pick to spend your hard earned money on).

“I'm going to get my shoes,” I told her and made my shaky way up our apartment carpeted and creaky stairs. I grasped the cherry wood banister. 

When I was downstairs once again, shoes clutched in my overly warm hands, the tea was on the countertop steaming and gross. My sister was sitting in her recliner watching CNN again, steaming and upset.

“I figured it out.”

“What?”

She looked up at me from her clothed furniture monster. “I mean,” she began, “If I was listening to Donald Trump my stomach would hurt too.” She smiled proudly at her joke and to be honest, I was a little amused. It's her delivery needs a bit of work.

“You're becoming more like a dad every day,” I said. She looked at me and smiled.

“That's all I could wish for.”

Her earnest comment made me feel a little better- but only a little bit. I gave a weak smile.

She looked back at screen, abstracted by CNN´s anchor Anderson Cooper. I shuffled around a bit to round up all of my school items.

While I placed my red plastic water bottle I got from a science fair, I felt an urge to vomit, so I run over to the closest thing that resembled a trash can and puked directly into it.

Not a pretty sight. Not a pretty smell. Not pretty in general.

My sister whipped her head around her eyes burned into my vomit that was conveniently going down the sink drain.

¨Oh, no, OH HELL NO. You are not going to school,¨ She said through gritted teeth as she got up to dragged me upstairs.

¨Natalie, I can walk myself,” I croaked. I looked at her, she looked at me.

¨Fine, I'll get soup.¨

¨Natalie, what the fuck? It's six thirty am.¨

¨I didn't mean I’d get it Now. ¨

¨Oh.¨

I shakily got upstairs into my room. I have no time to take off my clothes before I climbed into my oasis of a bed. This is what lead me to this journal. My older sister got me this four months ago for my birthday, because apparently I have a problem with getting my emotions out. And since my sister is a medical freak or something, she is making me write in this. But of course, I've been petty and have not written in it. This precise moment in my timeline of life had led me here, sick, pretty much dying, writing in this book for the first time.

Here's how I'm feeling:

BETRAYED by my immune system

 

November 25

It's been three days since I was sick, and my sister almost quarantined the whole apartment. My brother swore he got sick too, but I think it was just an excuse to not go to his marketing lecture.

Natalie was trying to make our place seem as close to a catalogue photo as she could possibly get it. Which isn't much. While she did that I was sitting on our stained wooden kitchen table in our surprisingly comfortable chairs that are all different shapes and sizes. One chair we got for free outside of our apartment complex that we painted to match the rest of the black chairs. One of the other black chairs is half metal, the other is an antique-looking wooden one stained black, and the last one, my personal favorite, is a black ikea desk chair. I think it suits us.

The whole kitchen totally screams fine dining, for sure.

You got some 70s wallpaper with modern everything else. The only white appliance is the oven, the rest is upgraded. My brother deserves stainless steel.

I tapped my foot rapidly on the sadly fake hardwood and waited for my sadly real brother to finish up cooking so I could focus on my calculus.

¨Mack, hurry up. Natalie's boyfriend is dating her , he isn't expecting some four course, five star meal!¨ I said louder than usual so Natalie would hear.

Which she did, and she screamed that she did in fact hear it from the only bathroom, located quaintly upstairs.

Mack and I laughed loudly at that.

Mack looked back at me. ¨So, when are you bringing your boyfriend over so I can cook for him too.¨

I stared at him sternly.

¨Mack, you damn well know I am not interested in anyone.¨

¨Yeah, save your purity ring for college lil sis.¨

¨You are awful.¨

¨Thanks.¨

I rolled my eyes and went back to my math homework sprawled out in front of me. I only managed to do precisely two short problems that will no longer be important to my life in a few years, whe Natalie ran down the stairs. She was dressed to the nines in high waisted pale blue jeans and a tucked in long sleeve that she had popped open the top two buttons. I looked over at what Mack and I were wearing. We were fashionably clad in pajamas.

¨GO CHANGE.¨

Mack and I eyed each other then made a beeline upstairs to change. I knew Mack and his “superior taste in clothing” would at least take a superior amount of fifteen minutes for him to get ready.

By the time I got back downstairs, fully dressed this time, Natalie had cleaned all my school stuff off the table.

She turned from where she scrubbed the counter next to the sink I vomited in precisely three days ago.

¨Aw! You're wearing the hot sauce sweater!”

¨Yeah, it's a good first impression because I'm spicy. He’ll know what to expect.¨

She smiled at me. And then the loud MOOO from Mack’s cow timer went off loud enough as if there was an actual in here, not just a plastic one. Right when it went off, Mack stumbled down the stairs and screamed, ¨MY SPINACH PUFFS!”

I grinned. Natalie laughed loudly.

When Mack had gotten the spinach puffs out of the vintage oven someone knocked on the door.

¨Oh my god he’s here.¨

¨I can't believe it took you a year and a half for us to meet him.¨ Mack looked at her, hands on his hips like a stern mother.

She shrugged. ¨I have trust issues.” She left us with that, but it’s okay because we understood.

When Natalie got the door, when could hear her surprisingly real boyfriend Brian talking from the kitchen. He had a high voice, raspy with humor laced in it. Mack nodded to me and smiled.

¨Sooo, this is where you live.¨

¨What did you expect?¨ Natalie laughed a little.

¨A crackhouse? I'm not sure, something mysterious.¨

They both laughed and walked into the kitchen.

Brian was exactly how I expected him to look like minus the bright ginger hair. That was unexpected.

Brian stood at the same height as Mack, about six feet, and had a certain friendly aura that made me want to listen to him sit on a mismatched chair at our ruined table and tell us all bad jokes. He wore a dark blue sweater and khakis. Politely, he shook both my hand and my brother’s hand. I liked how he was taking this seriously, just like us. My brother gripped his hand tight and gave him a firm glare, an attempt to be threatening, I could only assume. It's hard for someone about 140 pounds and wearing a apron with lace on it to seem threatening.

¨Listen here, Brian. You mess with my sister and I'm sending my other sister after you,” He said and cracked into a smile. Typical.

¨Are you just the middleman on this?¨ Brian said.

Mack laughed and nodded then released Brian’s hand. They moved on as Mack offered him ¨the fruits of his labour”,which were spinach puffs and a salad he placed on top of the table.

Natalie offered him beer and we all sat down at the kitchen table. It felt really odd.

¨Sooo.¨ Natalie drummed her fingers along the table, jittery with the idiosyncratic feeling when two of your worlds collided for the first time.

Then I realized I was glaring at him. I didn't mean too. So I tried to relax my face and Mack laughed at me from his free and artistically spray painted chair. I kicked him under the table. It only hurt my bare foot a little.

¨Where do you work, Brian?” I asked.

¨I work in the same pharmacy as your sister.¨

I remembered she mentioned that before, and I rubbed my forehead in agitation.

“Sorry, that's right. Natalie told us that.”

Mack hummed chewing on his cranberry walnut salad. ¨Isn't that where you two met?¨

Brian side-eyed Natalie, who had her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. Natalie shoved him, gave us a confused look, and gave him an over exaggerated shrug. It was an act, though. I’m glad Natalie never became an actor.

Mack and I exchanged glances. We were both confused and intrigued. Mack rested his head on his hand and looked at them, eyebrows raised.

“That's not at all what happened,” Brian said through wheezing laughs, tears formed in his squinty brown eyes. 

“That's not how you met?” Mack feigned innocence,eyes darted between Natalie and Brian. Natalie’s dropped to the table and groaned. Brian laughed a little more.

“We met after your sister did a keg stand and went over and sat on the couch where I was then began to drunkenly cry about how she had to put on her retainer before she went to bed but she didn’t have it with her.” It took Mack and I a second to process what Brian had just said.

We both looked at Natalie, the accused liar looked mortified. We busted out laughing. I imagined Natalie doing a keg stand then crying.

“Its really not that funny.” Natalie scratched her head.

“ It is that funny.” Mack yelled out from his laugh.

Brian beamed at us. He knew he had won us over already when we’d just started our meal. Cocky bastard.

Brian eyed his plate of spaghetti, gaze shifted between us, the plate, and Natalie with a look of apprehension. Natalie saw the face her boyfriend made and stabbed a meatball with her fork then swallowed it whole; took it on a one way road to her stomach. She looked at Brian and said, “They're turkey meatballs, don't worry.¨

I guess Brian doesn't eat red meat. It’s always the boys in flannel, I bit back smile at my thought.

¨You don't eat red meat?¨ asked Mack.

¨No I don't. I have high cholesterol as it is.¨

¨Smart man, Brian. Smart man.¨

Brian looked at Mack and smiled easily. Mack has this certain quality that neither Natalie and I have. He’s the type of guy everyone feel at eases with a smile that goes straight to their hearts.

I was eating turkey meatballs with I realized how lucky I am to have them in my life . I am really glad they are here for me; always have and always will be.

So, here’s how I’m feeling:

Grateful and content

 

November 28

We had salad, potato chips, and turkey sandwiches for Thanksgiving again.

I asked Natalie why she wasn't with her boyfriend. She said she'd rather be with us. But Mack and I convinced her to at least go call him.

They asked about my friends, namely Thalia and Madison. It was annoying. They know I declined their offer to do a friendsgiving. I don't know, I just wasn’t up for it. And of course, I didn't feel a bit of pleasure at Thalia's stupid kicked puppy face. 

While Natalie called her boyfriend, Mack and I sat and watched the football game even though neither of us understand any of it. We just made weird names for players and pretended to be announcers like we do every year.

Here's how I'm feeling:

A little lonely but not in a bad way, I guess.

 

December 1

It's eleven o'clock at night and I have school tomorrow. In a completely unhumorous way, it’s past my bedtime. I'm worried about what's going to happen tomorrow to sleep. I'm upset with myself for not sleeping because I have two tests but I can't sleep! I can not physically force myself, either. This pisses me off. I'm ready to jump out of bed and fling myself off of the ninth floor we live on.

I can hear the loud snoring of my brother every night in the same room in the same bed at the same time. Usually, it doesn't bother me. Ever. Why is that? It's usually because this year I’ve been wrapped up in my white 100% cotton blend freshly washed sheets and my cheap duvet- I sleep like it's a job, and I'm the CEO of the job. Which is a analogy for I crush it.

I just explained that because I need to explain everything I do when I’m this exhausted. And yes, that was one thousand percent salt directed at my friend’s affectation way of caring.

But yeah.

Whatever.

I'm lying stomach up in my bed, writing with the surprisingly bright yellow book light illuminating the paper. Beyond the light and the journal is the complete darkness of my bedroom. A completely foreign room, where there are no glow-in-the-dark stars and no posters. I can’t even tell apart my sheets from my duvet.

And I'm still fuming from earlier today.

I wish I could just admit defeat but I'm stubborn and I love being right.

Earlier today I was just sitting in Language Arts class when my friend Thalia sat next to me. Even though I low key don’t like Thalia, I have to talk to her all the time since she's best friends with my friends and I have to sit with her outside on a creaky bench with our mutual friends. I force myself to tolerate her. But I think she just assumes we are best buddies or something because she just starts a conversation with me.

“How did your essay go?” She asked.

“I failed it.” I said curtly.

“What?”

“It was too aggressive and didn't fit the criteria.”

She looked so confused.

“It was a persuasive essay, isn't it suppose to be aggressive?”

“I thought so too. But apparently it was too much for a southern belle to handle.” Our teacher is from South Carolina. I despise her.

She laughed at that. I meant for it to be mean and not a joke. I know she thought it was a joke because I know Thalia won't laugh at something mean. But I frowned and finally gave her the attention she constantly craves and it gives me more of a reason to not like her.

I looked at her and her stupid smile that showed all her perfect straight teeth and made her eyes squint like her life is some perfect fairytale and I'm just a character in her grand ol’ story. It makes me want to stab her in the throat.

“It wasn't a joke. I was being mean.” I snapped at her.

She stared at me, brown eyes calculating like the loud blucky computers in the library.

“Wow. I can see how it was aggressive now.”

“Fuck off.”

She looked at me, stupid mouth and stupid eyes turned serious now.

“You know, one of these days you'll actually scare someone off.”

I stared at her, I had no idea where she was going with that.

“Listen,” She continued. “You're going to have to tell people what you really think, because no human can read minds and automatically understand another human being.”

She was so serious and I was (still am) so tired.

“Alright. Fine. Here listen, Aristotle, every time you talk I want to kick you in the shins.” I narrowed my eyes for extra flare.

She looked at me and smiled. The audacity . “Okay edgelord.” TH E AUDACITY . 

I quietly fumed in my seat the rest of the day. And I let my anger fester inside me on my bike ride home and through the night to my bed. And I think I'm finally realizing that maybe sometimes, I shouldn't really allowed to feel sorry for myself because it just leads me to a bad state of mind.

And I think I'm becoming Aristotle now.

But I'm back in my dark room. I wish it was pitch black because I can see slivers of light from passing cars through my window. So I'm in my almos t pitch black room, writing almost angsty poetry in my journal that was especially given to me so I could write my feelings.

It's been like two weeks how am I still bad at this?

Here's how I'm feeling:

OFFENDED by my friend for trying to figure me out without my consent.

 

December 4

Thalia, Chris, Madison and I had lunch in a classroom today. The teacher left halfway through lunch probably tired of the rambunctious teens we are. The desolate classroom felt extremely eerie. All four of us spoke up about this.

Somehow, this talk about the paranormal state of the now haunted classroom had led to extraterrestrial life in the haunted galaxy we know nothing about. All of us ganged up on Christo tell them that aliens were very real.

Which led to Madison educating Chris about alien sightings by watching Buzzfeed Unsolved . The real education this government needs.

Which led to me having to have another one on one conversation with my least favorite, favorite person. Having a conversation with Thalia is way better when she isn’t talking about her world philosophy or her orchestra concert and how Mozart isn't appreciated enough even though he really is. I may have stopped paying attention to whatever was coming out of her lips as she talked to me, but then I saw her excited face that showed me she came up with a great plan that never turns out great. I had came back down to Earth.

“One of these days, you and me, we are gonna go to a haunted house,” she told me.

“What makes you think I'd go anywhere haunted with you?” I tried to not smile.

“I need you because you glare so much you’ll scare all the ghosts away.” She laughed and I knew it was just a joke. I didn't laugh.

“My face is naturally like this, okay?” I rolled my eyes pointedly, arms crossed.

Her smiled used like forty-three muscles so everyone in a five mile radius could spot her stupid, pearly white teeth. She had to be showing off how much money her family spent on braces.

“I know, it's nice though. It's so Monica. I can't imagine you without that face.”

I gave her a leveled look as she showed off her few thousand dollar teeth. I may have smiled. Maybe.

“Yeah well, that's a first.”

“First what?” she asked.

“First time someone told me my resting bitch face was nice.”

She laughed her loud, ugly laugh. Once she finished she supplied: “It's your face, so I automatically think its nice.”

“Nothing about me is nice.” I challenged her.

“That's what you keep saying. But it's not true. You're nice. Why would I like hanging around you so much?” I still wonder what's wrong with Thalia and why she has to be as positive as Bob Ross every minute of everyday of every week. I guess it’s not bad, but one of these days I will kick her in the shins just so she can tell me about how she forgives me. And how the shoes I was wearing are so supportive and well-made. 

I looked at her and made the smirk that Natalie says pulls on my right side more than the other.

“Because I ward off evil spirits.”

She laughed and I laughed and I didn’t hate her. Then Chris asked us if we would like to hang out after school later this week to work on a transgender awareness poster. Of course, I said yes.

I thought about our conversation, that wasn’t about Mozart or how the universe has a plan everyone, for an embarrassingly plentiful amount of time. I thought about it when I was riding my bike I’ve had since I was twelve and cut off the hot pink streamers through the city traffic, nearly dying over and over again as I daringly cut cars off because I could. 

I reached the large downhill steep to my apartment where the road is empty after school. The hill is a bitch to get up in the morning but it wakes me up.

The hill after school still wakes me up, but in the best, adrenaline-pumped rush way possible. I go really fast down the hill, knowing it evens out so no hazardous possibility of death awaits me.

I flew down the hill, air through my hair, out of my lungs, and circling around me like I'm unstoppable.

And I reached the end of my ride, and my thoughts flood back like a dam bursting. I made it home and I ran upstair to see no one else here. Of course. Work and school.

After doing my homework and doing a unmeasurable amount of overthinking, Natalie shows up at seven with pizza, and I tell her I finally got along with Thalia. There's hope for humanity after all. She laughed and we ate pizza. She told me about how she did not get along with her customers but because I'm so happy, I gave her hope.

It all made me smile.

She pushed my hair back and said my smile is nice. She likes seeing it on my face. And I got this feeling that I'm so happy Natalie is here, I don't know where I'd be without her. So I told her, and she smiled.

Here's how I'm feeling:

Hopeful.

 

December 8

You know things were looking up in the Friendship Land, where rainbows magically appeared out of Thalia’s mouth, Madison picked four leaf clovers and Chris rode on clouds. Well, all of that and more was ruined by yours truly.

We were all together in a meeting to work on this poster that Chris really wanted to do. Said meeting was unanimously agreed to be held after school in the library.

Upon arriving at the library, I was already in a bad mood. My day had royally sucked. Woke up late, got to school late, failed a math test, and now I had to deal with Thalia giving me her opinion on Renaissance music and her stupid freaking all perfect glistening white teeth smile, and her even stupid more stupid calculating glare.

Chris was talking about how we should paint a binder and add the googly eyes Thalia had brought, but Madison was arguing that we should just make the binder all bright pink glitter. Chris said that was tacky.

“Hot pink is gay culture though!” Madison exclaimed.

“We have to make this poster tolerable for the cishets, Madison,” Chris snapped.

“But what do they do for us?”

“Good point, but-”

I let them argue with Madison as I rolled my eyes and kept working on the background. I looked up to see Thalia giving me that look. The one where she’s trying to figure me out, like she's in on something and is thinking about some secret to decode and it pisses me off.

“Stop doing that,” I told her.

“Doing what,” She looked at me confused.

“You look at everyone like you're in on some big secret. Like you know exactly what's going on in everyone’s heads.”

She stayed quiet but kept her calculating eyes on me.

“What's the big secret? Huh, Thalia? What's the dish?”

Chris furrored their eyebrows. Madison looked at me and put a hand on my shoulder. “Let it go,” he whispered to me. I didn’t listen.

“You seem to know what everyone else is thinking. Why can't you just tell us what you're thinking,” I bit out,my voice rose in volume. It hurt me as much as it looked like it hurt judging by her face.

She didn’t smile or have that calculating gaze, she didn’t frown, either. She looked wide-eyed and sad.

“There's no secret. I don't-”

“I don't get it Thalia ! You can just tell us! You can just-!” I groaned. Madison's grip on my shoulder tightened. I shrugged it off. I was too heated. Chris stayed quite. “I wish you -”

Thalia looked at me and she looked so sad and I stopped in my tracks.

“Not you too. Not you too. You're not allowed to do that to me me too. Everyone expects me to be all these things, to do all these things. I can’t just be someone people want me to be.” Her eyes were glossy and I felt like throwing up in a completely bad way that had nothing to do with my digestive track. It was the way Thalia looked at me.

“There's no secret,” She said. She gave us a smile, a sad and pathetic smile, before she walked away. Chris went after her.

I watched them walk away and my whole body wants me to chase after her with Chris. But I stopped myself. I had a feeling she didn’t want to conversate with me right now.

Madison frowned at me.

I met his gaze and he eased up a bit.

He opened his mouth but I cut him off. “Look I know what I did. I know. I'm sorry. I'd apologize but I don't think she wants to listen to me right now.”

Madison shook his head. “No she will always forgive you . It's fine, don't worry about it, it's just. Why did you blow up like that?”

I looked at him. This kid is taking AP Psych, I don't trust him-but I do.

“I just get frustrated sometimes. And today sucked, it sucks that I never know what's going on in her head. I never know.”

He regarded me thoughtfully then nodded.

“Yeah.”

That's all he said we walked out of the library into the parking lot. He left me alone outside near all the cars and cement. I glanced around it was too sunny for me to be so upset then. This isn't what literature has taught me. It should have been gray and cloudy and the sun should not have been there. Everything was too cloudy in my head for it to have been so sunny and bright outside.

I eventually made my way to my bike, I kicked a insignificant piece of gravel on my way.

I forgot my helmet, but the mere thought of colliding head first into incoming traffic gave me a thrill at that moment in my most recent low.

I was already pedalling by the time I had realized I could die. Possibly.

As the sun hit my forearms and my cheeks, I had a feeling in my gut, this brash, self-centered, little voice that told me I wont. I can't. I pedalled faster. I wove through the traffic as though I was an expert at avoiding all the cars and obstacles. My heart pumped blood through my body, I could feel it thump away in my chest. I felt as though there was a big spot light on me that burned my skin with its brightness, left me sunburnt and drunk with false egotism. If I pedalled hard enough all the bad things that tended to tumble out of my mouth could spontaneously vanish into thin air. I know they won't. It's false hope made me pedal harder and faster. The air was on my skin and in my eyes and through my hair; it burned in my lungs like the figurative spotlight, my hair billowed flag-like in the wind behind me.

I found myself past my apartment, past myself. I was part of the wind, I was the sound of honking horns from angry drivers, I was the parent that pushed the baby stroller. I was the green light, I was the leafless tree, I was the waiter who served outside the cafe, I was the silver tray he held. I was everything and anything all at once.

I was practically across the city, numb and exhausted. High. I don't know how much time I'd pedaled for, or how far I was. When I finally crashed down from my impulsive marathon, I only knew I was lost.

I looked around there was nothing I recognized. All I saw was a laundromat and a Domino's Pizza. Where I live there are almost no corporate pizza places. I was a little confused. I went and asked someone what area I was in.

Sixteen miles. I was sixteen miles from home.

I thanked the man, and walked my bike with my mushy legs over to a Starbucks that must have been placed by God. With my bike locked up I went inside and ordered myself a God damn muffin. Once outside again I sat down and opened my phone to call Natalie or Mack, even though they might be at work right now. It’s a friday night.

The time was five-thirty. I had two more hours before Natalie got off.

I sat in that distant and alien Starbucks on the freezing cold metal seats, a complete contrast how I was still warm and exhausted from my makeshift marathon.

I could have said I did my homework in those two hours, which I did some, but I just sat there and ate my muffin; thought about things other than the oh so very important quadratic formula.

Two hours passed. It was much darker now, more appropriate, and I finally called Natalie before she could have been home. She answered on the first ring.

“Natalie.” I said before she could get a greeting in.

“Yes?” She sounded so worried and concerned. I choked getting it out, but I told her where I was. She asked me how I got there. I said I didn’t exactly know.

“I’ll be there soon,” she told me.

“I know.”

She hung up and was there in thirty minutes. I had already bought her a large coffee. She took it and and gave me her own calculating gaze.

“Why?” She needed an answer.

“Stressed.”

“About what?”

I told Natalie what had happened earlier today when my friends and I stayed after school. And she looked at me in a way that reminded me of a mom more than an older sister.

She told me I was going to apologize to Thalia tomorrow. I nodded.

“That was quick,” she said.

“I’m admitting defeat for once, just accept it.”

“You want to get her roses?” She smiled at me. I rolled my eyes and she drove us the sixteen miles home with my bike barely fitting in her hatchback.

Here's how I’m feeling:

Lost, but muffins help.

 

December 9

I was standing outside of this itty bitty, skinny, victorian house. It had actual corbels, a bayside window and was painted a pale yellow color. The front lawn which was also tiny, had pristine white roses, and a neatly kept lawn. On the driveway was a bright chalk mural, drawn by children, probably from this morning, not washed away by rain yet.

I didn’t even have to check the address again, I knew that this was Thalia’s house. The whole house screamed Thalia. I was nervous, but I wasn’t sure why. I’ve apologized a lot of times in my life and this was the only time I was nervous.

Natalie turned to me, she looked at the house. “Is this is?” she asked seemingly impressed.

“I’m sure of it.” I told her.

She nodded, and I got out of the car, Natalie had given me the apology talk earlier already. She went and bought a whole packet of chewy chips ahoy cookies, for me to give to Thalia as a peace offering.

I held it awkwardly in the pharmacy bag as I pressed the gaudy doorbell that rang loud and annoyingly. I heard a dog barking and some yelling in both english and another language.

The door was answered by a woman in the mid life crisis age. She looked like she was having the opposite of a midlife crisis, she was smiling brightly and had windswept graying hair, she laughed her eyes squinting as she held a dog back from going through the door.

“I didn’t call for a babysitter!” she said to me eyeing my bag and sensually worn jeans, she had a smirk on her face.

I flushed a little probably completely confused looking, because I was confused as to what to say.

Thalia’s mom laughed. “I’m just kidding with you, Thalia told me all about you.”

“THALIA, YOUR FRIEND MONICA IS HERE TO SEE YOU!” she yelled loudly. She smiled and She moved allowing the dog to jump on me as Thalia’s mom let me into her house.

The dog was extremely friendly, it was heavy on my legs as I pet it behind the ears. I think thalia had said the dog's name was Clyde.

“I’m Shanon, Thalia’s mom.” now I knew her dog’s name and her mom’s name.

“I could tell. You look just like her.”

She stared at me softly. I cringed at myself.

“I’m monica.” I told her.

“I could tell, you look just like the picture Thalia showed me.” her mom smiled and patted me good naturally on my shoulder and took the dog away from me.

Thalia came running down the stairs, “What picture? There’s no picture!” Shannon laughed and waved away, winking at Thalia before taking her exit. Clyde following her Thalia looked after her mother face flushed and breathing a little hard. The stairs where probably really long considering its a three story house.

“Hi.” she said. She didn’t even look mad.

“You don’t even look mad.” I said.

“Why would I be mad.” She regarded me smiling. She had already forgiven me-I couldn’t believe this girl. She nodded to the bag, “You brought me something?”

I looked at her, she was already grabbing the bag before I could reply.

She grabbed the bag and peered inside, then gasped lightly. I couldn’t look at her face so I looked to my left at a potted plant. Wow amazing. I love plants. The mosaic pot? Beautiful? The interior design in her house is absolutely flawless.

“Monica, my mom doesn’t let me eat these.”

I looked at her taking my fake fascination away from the plant. I began to apologize which is what I had originally come her for. But she’s smiling. Her mouth is tugging to one side more than the other just like her mom.

“You look just like your mom.” I tell her instead.

She smiles on both sides of her mouth this time. The bag is in her hand. “Let's go upstairs and secretly eat them.” she told me in a whisper, and I followed her upstairs. Looking at all the framed photos on the wall.

She points to one of what looks like her as a six year old holding two babies. “That’s me and my two younger brothers.” A young Thalia is smiling with all 43 of her mouth muscles and she’s missing two of her front teeth. She has adorable ribbons in her dark hair. The babies are wearing matching colored beanies and look sound asleep. She tells me she’s six years older than he siblings.

“My sister is nine years older than me.” I tell her.

“Wow, don't you have a brother too?” she asks looking at me as we continue up the stairs passing a floor with rooms that I’m guessing aren’t her’s.

“Yeah, he's still in college getting his masters.”

“In what?”

“Business.”

“That seems boring.”

“Nah, my brother says he wants to scam people to buy things they don't need.”

Thalia laughs with me and we are at what looks like a renovated attic. There’s things all over her white walls, posters, pictures, and tickets of some kind. Her room is super messy and cluttered with things she probably doesn’t need. There's a desk layered with papers and books on it, pencils are in a drawer next to it.

There's a floor heater near a bed that’s tucked away in a corner under the slanted wall which is decorated in little rainbow stickers. Classic.

“I like your room.” I told her.

“It's really messy.”

“Somethings are messy.” I shrug and we sit on her unmade bed and she smiles at me like she understands the whole universe and I told her the most profound thing. I think Thalia always thinks people say the most profound things. Its like her life is some indie movie and she's just waiting for someone with the right dialogue.

We sit there for a while and Thalia eats about seventeen cookies, and she talks with her mouth full and I absolutely hate her. But I can't. Then I all the sudden remembered exactly why I had come here in the first place.

She was talking about how her mom had the whole family on this raw diet that lasted precisely four days, before I cut her off.

“You know I didn’t come here to hang out.”

“Wow hurtful.” there was, as always, no malice in her voice.

“You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I know. Continue.” she let me go on, leaving the cookie that was halfway to her mouth, uneaten in her manicured hand.

I took a breath, I still am not sure why it was so hard to apologize. But I did. I told her that I was sorry I blew up on her. “You have every right to be mad,” finishing up this speech I had practiced in the mirror four times before I had came, “but you aren't. I don't get you sometimes.”

She looked at me openly trying to figure me out again. But I wasn't really upset this time.

She reached her hand onto my forearm and spoke. “Its you, and sometimes things are hard for you. So I can't be mad at you, Monica.”

I looked at her and I want to ask what she means, but I don’t want to hear something I don't want to listen to; and I think I get what she’s saying. So I just looked at her as one hand was still holding onto an uneaten cookie and her other hand was burning onto my forearm.

The rest of time I spent at her house is a little blurry, she ate half of the cookies I had gotten her then she made me meet her siblings. I helped them finish a puzzle and the eleven year olds declared me their “favorite Thalia friend.” kids are weird. I don’t really get them.

Shannon asked me to stay for dinner but I declined ( politely ). I gave a half hearted excuse that was half true about how my brother was making spaghetti and I couldn't miss spaghetti night. I take it back. It was one hundred percent true, I couldn’t miss spaghetti night who would ever want to miss that? I almost did. Just because Thalia asked.

Who ever invented friendship forgot the major flaw that's called weakness, and I’m ready to personally slap the inventor of friendship in the face just for that small inconvenience. I should feel kind of ridiculous for even thinking about missing spaghetti night, but I don't.

I still ate that spaghetti as I sat in my favorite ikea desk chair while I told Natalie and Matt who had just home from work about my day.

Here's how I’m feeling:

Relieved.

 

December 12

This awful thing happened today.

I was slouching uncomfortably in my irritating and incredibly drafty language arts class with my assigned partner across the room from Thalia.

Thalia had this shy looking boy with glasses and a light brown emo haircut.

I could hear her talking to him from where I sat situated in the not cozy corner right under the air vent with some girl named Sam.

“Yeah, so I Think this passage really shows the tone in the author's writing.” Sam went on and I nodded half listening to her and half listening to Thalia's conversation.

I stared at her, silently freezing under the steady stream of unnecessary air conditioning, hand on my face, as Sam kept going on like a leaky faucet.

Thalia had a laptop on her desk open and hands waving around ecstatically as she talked. The shy kid smiled and nodded.

“But yeah so our first conversation was about the theory of evolution. I can't believe you're her twin brother!”

The shy kid laughed. “yeah, for some reason everyone else thinks we look alike, but I don't think so.” he said amused but thoughtfully.

Thalia smiled she turned at him. She looked at him with the intensity that only an old white lady at a old museum inspecting an old painting could have.

“hm.” she started staring at his features. “It's the lips. Everything else not so much. I don't think you guys look that much alike.”

They continued, contently completely off topic.

“Well, what do you think?” asked Sam. I looked at Her in her pudgy face and blonde bangs, that she will look back at in old photographs when she's older and regret.

“I pretty much agree.” I told her. She smiled a phony smile that told me ‘I don't really care because I was going to keep it but i’ll smile anyway’ and went back to typing.

I stared back at Thalia who was laughing incredibly hard and loud at this precise moment with someone she just met. All eyes were on her, the loudest thing in the room and she didn't care. Her absurd carelessness made her shy partner more comfortable. And I saw her glowing face under the artificial lighting in the cramped and drafty classroom; and I wondered if I would ever meet someone so bright and unapologetically themselves ever again.

I would never meet another Thalia in my earth timeline. And I realized this staring at her as she wore a rainbow pride sweater with her long black hair and her triple pierced ears and magenta lip gloss, that I actually admired how she was truly apathetic to how others thought of her.

And it was godawful.

I was completely distraught. It scared me.

So after class when we walk to lunch together and Thalia talked about how “dilatory the curriculum is” I couldn't get myself to somehow getting to the imaginary conversation where I tell her how cool she is.

I just let her complain, then she asked what I thought and I lamely told her that I pretty much agreed.

She looked at me. She laughed.

“You totally weren't listening, were you.” it was a statement. She knew, and it wasn’t a question.

I looked at her and I realized I'm always usually honest with her. She pulled at me that way, that every word that came out of my mouth was true and what I actually believed, because I knew she wouldn’t care if it weird or poetic; if I tried hard or hardly tried she just wanted to listen.

“No I wasn't.” I continued. “But I think the school system needs to create more opportunities for kids to be creative.” I shrugged.

Thalia smiled at me and clapped her hands fastening our walking pace from a saunter to a fast walk.

¨ME TOO!¨ she said, and I am sure people in work buildings down the street could hear her enthusiasm.

I think I smiled, or maybe the whole time I was smiling it's hard to tell when I'm with Thalia these days.

Here's how I am feeling:

Not completely drowning in hatred.

 

December 17

My brother was savagely eating his hamburger like a neanderthal while he was talking to my sister about politics or the economy or something totally not concerning to me while I picked at a French fry. I didn't feel like eating. They must have noticed because they tried a little harder to engage and integrate me into their grown up conversation I could never be part of.

“So yeah, do you know anyone at your school that's pregnant?” Says Mack and I looked at him with a confused and twisted face, it might have been a tad bit sassy.

“I know like seven people at my school and they all can't even think about getting any action.” I told him. It's true.

Natalie and Mack look at me and they smile, Natalie laughs.

“Honestly me too though. I haven't gotten action in days. It's awful.”

“Ewwww natalie.”

“I'm serious, hey Mack you wouldn't have any friends that like cougars would you?” Natalie turns looking at him she raises her eyebrows. He chokes on his food, and I laugh.

He swallowed smiling. “You're only twenty eight, you hardly qualify as a cougar.”

“Woah woah woah, calm down I'm twenty eight in two months. I'm still at a youthful twenty seven. And it doesn't matter anymore because i'm not twenty five which is a prime twenties age. ”

I looked at her smirking. “What's so great about being twenty five?”

I can see on Natalie’s open face that she's been saving this joke for years. I already know it's awful. She sets her fry down like she going to get into a presidential speech.

“Well,” me and my brother groaned already knowing what was coming, but Natalie ignored us and continued. “Twenty five is in your mid twenties so depending on what you're talking about you can say you're in your early twenties or your late twenties.”

“Intriguing hypothesis.” I deadpanned.

“It's not a hypothesis as much as it is a factoid.” she says.

“Can you pretentious assholes calm down for a moment? I have a seriously important question.” Mack said with his mouthful like a neanderthal once again.

“Shoot.”

“Do you and Brian need the house for yourself? So you can get it on?” he waggled his eyebrows inappropriately. I don't know how this kind of stuff drips off his tongue so easily like every word comes so effortless and he can say it so casually.

Natalie laughed, and I laughed. Then natalie stopped and she sighed, and then I looked at Mack and he looked at me. I raised my eyebrow.

“Thats a yes?” I asked.

She smacked my shoulder. “Sure.” she said it like it was challenging. And she really had to push it out. I understood.

 

That whole conversation seven hours ago led me and my uncomplicated brother Mack in the middle of a cheap bowling alley at midnight. The specific time where it was practically deserted with the exception of a few stray drunk adults, some stoned teeanagers and middle schoolers who believed they were being rebellious. Under the dark lights that made everything white or neon glow, made the carpet look less obnoxiously hideous, made bowling less sad, and made everyone feel as though it was only them in this nineties throwback bowling alley of a universe.

I watched my brother roll his third spare in a row, then attempt an beginner's moonwalk. Our whole family was uncoordinated when it came to rhythm and dance.

He came telling me it was my turn and I nodded. As I walked up there I couldn't help but look to my right where there were parents taking a ten year old out bowling at midnight. I wondered why they were out late when I saw the birthday cake. He probably wanted to stay up this late, on his birthday.

He had bumpers and went before me, throwing the five pound neon green bowling ball as hard as his child fingers could manage, it bounced along the sides eventually painlessly scoring a strike. The kid was so happy.

He jumped up and down in his excitement, his parents came up to him and spun him around, like he won the olympics or something so special that wasn’t actually just bowling with bumpers.

I was staring for so long, my brother cut me out of my trance by yelling at me if i was going to take all day.

I tried to bowl. I got two gutterballs and sat back down. Not everyone has bumpers.

I waited for my brother to get up but he didn't. He turned his half spinny chair to me and gave me his I’m gonna be serious for the third time in my life look.’

“What's wrong?” a stupid question, there’s millions of answers to this.

“Lots of things.” my stupid answer.

We sat there, he stared at me and I tried to make eye contact without squirming but I couldn't quite do it. For some reason it was too taxing to do a simple human task. So I settled on stared ahead of him at the family.

“You're making that face.”

I didn't answer. I just let the silence of our conversation get dulled out by the loudness of the bowling alley. The child shrieking carelessly with joy, the sound of the outdated ‘strike’ graphics on the score screens. The neon lighting was still on and I was glad it was.

“Mack.”

“Yeah?”

I finally looked at him, or at least near him. “I don't want to sound like a whiny child but,” he nodded. I continued. “I just sometimes wish that I could be normal. And things could be easy.”

He looked so open and so confused, and I felt so awkward and horrible. I've never had a very serious conversation with Mack, serious conversations were for Natalie. Mack was suppose to be my leveler. My comic relief. He was supposed to make things less complicated, less hard.

“What do you mean?” he asked me eyes narrowing.

“You know exactly what I mean.” I stopped looking at him and starting looking at the pattern of the table.

He sighed. “What kind of normal? Can you at least explain that?” he was being gentle with me. I hated it. I hate it.

“Like I have a actual family! Like I had a mom and dad that actually give a shit and took me out on my tenth birthday. Parents, real ones that treat their kids like kids and have stupid tea parties with them. And siblings that are just siblings not stand in parents.” I take a breath but I don't stop because I'm scared I won't tell him this if I do stop. “It's so hard for Natalie I can tell. I feel so bad.”

“Why do you feel so bad?”

“Because she had to grow up so fast, she had to support us so quickly. Its sucks. It totally sucks. I feel so sorry. I-”

My brother wrapped me in my arms and I started crying. He pet my hair and it was totally awful and I felt like a dependent child again.

“I’m crying in the middle of a tacky bowling alley!” I sobbed.

Mack laughs softly and pulled me back so he could look me directly in the eye just to prove this was a moment we were sharing and he understood. He was crying a little too.

“Listen, Monica, what happened, it's not your fault. Natalie had to do it, we had to and we don’t regret it. Never ever. And it's not your fault.”

“What if it is.”

“It's not. It never was and never will be. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He held me again and rubbed my back, and I really hoped we didn't make a scene imagine making a scene in the middle of an already depressing bowling alley, the epitome of rock bottom that I’m completely past now. But I still really hope no one saw. After a few moments of nothing but butterballs and cheering, I unwrapped myself from him and rubbed my eyes.

He looked at me and said, “Maybe okay will be our always.”

And I smacked across the shoulder and got up. “Lets bounce.” I told him. And he nodded, taking one last sip of water before grabbing the keys and fleeing the scene, the scoreboard and the happy family. I glanced at the family, but they weren't there anymore, probably tucking their child in bed now.

Here's how I’m feeling:

better.

 

December 20

Today was the last day of school and we had gotten out early so Thalia forced the four of us to go to her house and watch terribly cheesy christmas movies.

Shannon, Thalia’s mom hugged me and the others when we came and gave us some advice on how to keep dogs away from gifts. The advice was completely useless but entertaining nonetheless.

She ordered us some local pizza from this place a mile down the street and when it came halfway through the awful movie that we weren’t even watching we all yelled thanks to Thalia’s mom as loud as we could.

Which was very loud; the local pizza place probably heard. The movie had ended and the pizza was eaten and the four of us lay on the floor with careless contentedness. Madison eventually sat up to make a revelation.

“Let's play uno.”

“Madison what the hell? I’m eighteen I can’t play uno.” Chris groaned.

Thalia smiled at Chris, she got up probably to get the cards . “You just don’t want to draw four cards and loose like last time.”

Chris groaned sitting up. “I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU. Monica you’re too savage.”

I shrugged laughing. “I get that a lot.”

They all laughed and we ended up playing uno anyways, against Chris’s ignored pleads of mercy.

After playing for only five minutes the cards had gone everywhere from angry throwing and the discard pile of uno cards was like the tower of pisa only way smaller and way messier.

“Guys make the deck more straight.” Madison said as he fixed the pile of cards.

“Sorry, I can’t do that.” Thalia smiled.

“OH MY GOD.”

I gave Chris another gracious draw four card that anyone would die for, and they threw a pillow at me declaring my act homophobic.

I won the game of course and Thalia started talking about blind consumerism in america while Madison and Chris had another argument about whether or not black friday is worth it. I realized I was really the only person listening to Thalia talk.

“Well, aren’t you giving into it huh Thalia?” I asked her jestering to the gifts overflowing under the tree.

“Dammit I am.” she smiled.

“It’s okay you don’t always have to be Ralph Waldo Emerson.” I told her and it made her laugh which made me smile.

“Don’t we have poems or something due in two weeks for Lit?”

“Yeah. I’m probably going to do it sunday night before the break ends.”

Thalia nodded, “You know what let's work on them together sometime over the break.”

I smiled wide probably with forty three of my muscles. “Yeah.” I told her.

So right after I had gotten home from Thalia’s house when Mack picked me up after his shift, I told him about my night.

“Your friends are hilarious.” he said to me.

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you have Thalia over for the poem thing?” Mack asked. I looked at him realizing that was a good idea.

“That’s a good idea” I told him.

Mack smiled turning back to the bumper to bumper traffic. “The moment you realize all my ideas are good ideas, is the moment your life will change for the better.” I had laughed at that, but mack rolled his eyes saying he was serious. I knew he was, I was just happy.

Here’s how I’m feeling:

It sounds stupid but, joyful. 

 

December 24

Today was one of the scariest days of my life.

Okay, maybe that’s an absolute overstatement but- I’m more than sure you could guess why. Here's a hint: the reason rhymes with onomatopoeia. I think it does, at least.

Thalia was over my house earlier today, her excuse to come over was to work on our poems together. She smiled when she said that so I knew she had bigger, better and creatively thought through Thalia-like plans.

When she arrived it was my sister who answered the door. Her mom was with her and I saw her from where I half-hid behind Natalie. Thalia stood there, about four inches taller than her mom, same height as Natalie. She wore tights, and a flowy denim skirt she said she got from a thrift store, and her iconic lip gloss. She clutched a large cat patterned tote bag. She looked colorful and messy, and very Thalia

Her mom, Shannon, smiled and said something to Thalia in a different language that made Thalia laugh. Her mom greeted my sister and my sister said something then let them into the apartment.

Thalia talked loudly with Natalie as she walked to where I was seated with Mack on his laptop.

Mack winked at me and wagged his eyebrows. I scowled back.

“Oh yeah, totally gonna do homework for sure !” Thalia's loud voice carried, making Natalie laugh. Thalia gasped at the chairs.

“Those chairs are adorable!” she smiled wide.

Mack looked up from his laptop. He smiled coyly, as I finally got a good glimpse at Thalia. “Am I one of those chairs?” he winked at her.

I frowned as Thalia and Mack erupted in full laughter. I couldn’t help but watch Thalia as they laughed. It made me smile.

Natalie joined us once Shannon was gone. She sat next to me and caught me smiling. I guess my smile was infectious because she smiled back at me. She said “Hi” like it was our little secret and her smiled stayed as she pulled out a notebook. I had my poorly written poem folded not so nicely on the table ready.

That's when The Thalia Investigation of the Century began.

“So how old are you, Thalia?” Mack asked

“I'll be eighteen in March!”

“What are you going to major in college?” Natalie asked

“Marketing! I wanna make commercials and manipulate the mind of children.”

“Really?”

“No.” 

“Pineapple pizza?” They asked.

“Sure, if it's pizza I’ll eat it purely because it's pizza.” Respectful answer, I guess.

“Do you think I should wear a scarf to my date?” Natalie asked.

“Depends if its patterned or not.” Great answer.

I finally snapped after all these questions. It was understandable, this was the first friend I’ve had officially at our house, and they heard so much about her. But I wanted to have some alone friend time.

I grabbed our stuff including the now crumpled poem. “Thalia, let's go! Jesus Christ!” I dragged her to my room. Thalia merely laughed it off following me.

She grabbed her oddly heavy bag from me and smiled. “I like them,” she said, as though her opinion mattered (it does).

I sighed. “Me too”

She smiled and we entered my room. It was idiosyncratic to have her in my room, with my family in the other, it was two worlds colliding.

She laid her stuff out on the carpet and she looked at me from where she was, her eyes wide as she stared up. I sat across from her. She looked at me, you guessed it, smiling.

“I love your room.”

“I cleaned it just for you.”

“Aw, thanks. Glow-in-the-dark stars, nice touch,” she said as she continued to peer around my room, contently.

I watched her and she went over everything happily with her calculating eyes. The chromebook on the cheap desk and another free chair we painted. A lamp, the poster we made that Chris let me keep. Another with glitter Madison made for me. She turned in a full circle to face me. I didn't look away from her gaze.

“No evil spirits here?”

I smiled. “None.”

We sat now and she leaned back, hands at her sides to brace her weight.

“I actually made the poems thing as an excuse to hang out with you,” she admitted. She looked almost shy about it. Almost.

“No shit.”

“I still wanna hear yours though. Can I?” She motioned to the crumpled up piece of paper in my fist, I looked from her to it. I shrugged.

“Yeah.”

I handed the pathetic paper to her and she gently unwrinkled it like it was some ancient masterpiece. Her eyes scanned over it as she reread it. She smiled then she laughed.

“This is great.”

My face felt warm. “Thanks,” I said as she handed it back to me. I took it in my hands and left it on the floor beside me.

Then we talked about the importance of poetry in society for awhile, and what it meant, or didn't mean. Then she told me hers, she memorized it already, and it was longer than mine.

“She's an enigma

A total unsolved mystery

One of the Wonders of the World

One of these days I'm going to find out

And be part of her story”

 

My mouth felt dry and she stopped fiddling with the carpet to look up at me. Not quite smiling, not quite not. She blushed faintly like she was embarrassed. But not quite.

“It's about you,” she said.

I nodded. It was silent for awhile.

Then I spoke. “I don't think I’m that big of a mystery.” Every syllable rolled off my tongue as if I was testing it out. Am I that much of a mystery? A little bit. There's still parts of myself that are a mystery to me. “Nevermind. I am. But I don't know, you are a mystery to me too,” I said.

Then we stared at each other almost like we understood one another for one of the first times in our short history of friendship.

She took something out of her bag. It was wrapped in cheesy, awful Christmas paper.

I looked at her confused.

“It took a lot of convincing to have my parents let me come here on Christmas Eve, I’m not sure if you knew that.”

I shook my head.

“Anyway,” she continued, showing me the wrapped box. “I got you something, because I saw it and I couldn't not get it for you. But promise not to open it until tomorrow?”

I looked at her shocked. She smiled at me easily and passed it to me. I placed the small gift in my lap.

I couldn’t figure out what to say to her. Here was Thalia, someone I adored and enjoyed being around, and she was actively showing me that she felt the same.

It was overwhelming, to say the least.

“Thank you so much, I- I didn't even get you anything.” I felt bad.

“Don’t worry, I don't need anything,” she smiled and patted me on the shoulder.

We just sat there and I listened to her talk about her cat that hides from everyone- the opposite of her dog, and her favorite couch at her house, and the Christmas throw pillows she made me look at four days ago. And I was dumbfounded how I got here, with this pretty girl that's my best friend in my room.

“Thalia,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Are we best friends?”

Thalia looked at me. She nodded and smiled. “I think so.”

“But I'm a mystery.”

“So?”

“What did your mom say to you when you were at the door?”

Thalia laughed, she looked at me. “She said that your mom was really young. But it was funny because I’ve told her Natalie isn’t your mom.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, if-”

“No, it's okay. I mean Natalie is basically my mom. She’s watched over me since I was ten.” I told Thalia that. I've never told anymore than that, but somehow it slid out of my mouth so easily, so comfortably that I didn't even think about it. Thalia gave me a look that signified I had all her undivided emotional, physical attention. That made me reevaluate how Thalia doesn't know much about me. I'm going to tell her because I like her, and she likes me and I actually trust another human being who isn't my therapist or sibling in a long time.

“So, essentially my parents had Natalie at a really young age, but they were super Catholic and they had to get married.” Thalia nodded. And I took a breath. The room felt smaller, colder. “And so, they got married, and had another kid. But they weren't really happy together after so many years together. ”

“Then they decided it would be a swimming idea to have one more kid so they could fuck it all up. That kid being me.”

Thalia looked at me and I put the gift down so we could scoot closer together.

“My parents really didn’t care after having two kids, so Natalie was in college and my brother Mack was babysitting me all the time. Because my parents could care less about their kids, they drank and fought.” I stopped. It isn’t easy talking about this, it’s onerous- but Thalia makes it less challenging for me to say what I need to say to her. To say out loud again.

“And by the time things got out of hand, Natalie was old enough to actually do something. She called child services and at twenty-four she took custody, because she didn't want other people to have me. It was so hard at first, because we didn't really have money. We were like a bunch of orphans. We were completely cut off from any family, but Natalie and Mack both worked and our neighbors tried to help but it was so hard. But they did it. They did it for me.“ That was it. I didn't want to go deep, and Thalia understood the rest, the words that were unfilled.

I didn't cry, and I wasn't sad, and Thalia didn't give me a stupid, uncomforting pity look people give to homeless people begging on the streets to show that they cared at the bare minimum when it was practically not caring at all. No, Thalia isn’t like that. When she does something she does it fully, one hundred percent, giving it all her attention and time. She touched my shoulder. I let her hug me.

She squeezed me and I almost teared up a little.

Then she said: “Monica, this might sound weird. And wrong, but even after all that shit, you turned out so nice, and,” she pulled back so she could look at me. “I'm so happy we’re here together now, in this weird Earth timeline.”

Then I cried and she wiped my tears with her manicured thumb. She started crying because I was crying, and it was this big emotional mess. I didn't hate it. I didn't care that her mascara got on my shirt or that my snot was almost in her hair. And she didn't care about that either. I knew in this precise moment I had all her attention and I was all she cared about.

We laid there afterwards on my carpet in my apartment my sister and brother own, and we stared at the ceiling light and the glow-in-the-dark stars that don't glow in the middle of the day.

I pestered her about what's in the small box, but she wouldn't budge as she wiped the mascara off her face with a damp, crumpled up tissue.

Then Thalia left after we made frozen french fries and said our goodbyes, wishing her a good Christmas.

My siblings were obviously going to ask how it went, inappropriately ask if I used protection, and I was tired and not up for it. I told them I was going to bed.

They looked at me confused. “Its four in the afternoon.”

“I'm going to bed.”

And technically, I did. I laid in bed and stared at a ceiling like I did on the survivable and difficult nights when my door was locked and I wanted the screaming to stop. A ceiling like the one at the house we rented a room out of, the three of us in one bed. That same ceiling I've stared at since Natalie bought this nice place she worked incredibly hard for a year ago.

And I made that face, the one Thalia says wards off bad spirits, and I pray they stay away for good, because I don't want anything to ruin this timeline I’ve got so far.

Here’s how I’m feeling:

Scared.

 

December 25,

The absolute worst thing happened today. This morning. ON CHRISTMAS DAY.

My sister not only betrayed our whole family by inviting her boyfriend to Christmas dinner, but she also totally sat me down to talk about My feelings. 

I had woken up very early due to going to sleep yesterday at six pm. I woke up approximately at four thirty.

So I decided I would make them breakfast, since this was the first official spending money on Christmas, Christmas because of Natalie's job. And I guess Mack’s waiter tips he brags about constantly count.

Ever since I had quit my last interesting job, at home goods that paid minimum wage and made me listen to soccer moms complain, last year when we moved here I felt like I wasn't helping out enough. But before I started on breakfast I looked at the small box filled with big important thought-through Thalia-like things she ,herself, had given me yesterday.

Memories from that day flooded back she said she saw it and had to get it, but I know her better than that and she probably spent immense amounts of time thinking about it. I hurriedly snatched the gift off my no longer dusty nightstand and opened it right there on my bed at four thirty in the morning. My room was surprisingly not that dark for this early.

I unwrapped it and opened the box , ripping the tape with my blunt nails.

There was a note, with the poem, and the words “Agate stone, and Apache tear stone.” I looked at the stones, one was a ingo blue almost black, the other was pearly white and had swirls of brown. I held them in my hand, they were cool and smooth. I flipped the slip of paper with the stone names on them, in perfectly thought out words written in Thalia's messy handwriting and with borderline obnoxious .5 glitter purple gel pen was

 

“used to dispel evil energies, ward off evil, and tragedies. Protect against trauma, evil spirits, defend you against storms. Just protection against evil forces in general. I thought it was appropriate because your glare is softening up and I don't have the heart to tell you.

xoxo, Thalia”

 

I smiled. I held them in my hand again. I smiled more. I think I sat there holding the delicate note in one hand and the indestructible stones in the other for at least five minutes.

Then I got up and tiptoed into the kitchen. Making basically no noise.

I decided on pancakes, since we had mix and I’m bad at eggs, but right when I had successfully got the first one on the sizzling hot pan, my brother came down and gagged.

“You are not making mix pancakes on christmas.” a disgusted command.

“I already am” bad retort, there's always next time.

“Oh hell no! It's the day of the lord Monica! You can’t insult our lord and savior jesus christ like that!” I laughed while Mack grabbed his christmas apron he got at a yard sale for seventy five cents, and helped me make more “edible” foods for the ultimate spending on christmas, christmas.

He made fresh whip cream, and butter, while I cut turkey sausages, and french bread. Only eating a few pieces of the beautiful flour and yeast product.

Natalie had woken up, she smiled as she walked into the complete mess of a kitchen we had.

“Christmas breakfast?” she asked.

“Duh.” mack said. I laughed beside him at the kitchen counter.

We continued cooking as Natalie played christmas music and sang off key to Michael Buble. We couldn't really blame her though.

Once breakfast was ready we were all clad in our pj’s and we sat eating the mix pancakes, and gourmet everything else. It was one of the best Christmas’s so far already.

Then Natalie cleared her throat. We all knew shit was going to go down.

She looked at us seriously.“Guys, hey later tonight is it okay if Brian comes over for a bit.”

Mack dropped his fork on his plate dramatically. He frowned.

“Why?”

“Because he's my boyfriend! And it's okay if I spend five minutes with him on Christmas.”

“But it's our first Christmas, Christmas!”

This was a grownup talk I usually never interfere with, but I was really annoyed at this point. “Mack! Let Natalie kiss her boyfriend under the mistletoe and do normal couple things that people her age do on christmas! We will be fine for an hour. After all the years we’ve gone through it's the very, very least we can do.”

Mack and Natalie looked at me dumbfounded,unglued.

“Holy shit, sorry Nat I can’t believe I was rude to Brian on the day of the lord.”

Natalie smiled softly at Mack then was reaching over to ruffle my hair. I glared at her.

“It's okay Mack. I get it, and Jesus Christ forgives you. Also Monica, I would do everything over again, if it meant we would have these moments we've had the past year.”

I stared at her, softening my face. “Me too. Thalia said something similar to that yesterday. Something about how great it is that we ended up here on this earth timeline.” I shrugged taking a bite of sausage that Brian could eat, with my syrupy pancake piece.

Natalie and Mack looked unglued again today, wide eyes staring at each other then at me.

“What?” I asked.

“Did you-”

“Yeah. sorry, I just I needed to tell Thalia.”

They looked at me again. An odd look in their eyes. I haven’t really seen that look much. Then the eyes changed, as I stared at them confused, Mack got up.

“I can’t believe this, my little sister has a girlfriend before me? And ON CHRISTS DAY NO LESS?!” he threw his napkin on the plate and walked to the kitchen window to stare out of it dramatically.

I looked at him and glared.

“She's not my girlfriend. We are just really close.”

“HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS MARY” Mack yelled throwing his hands in the air. Walking back over to us he put his hands on the table and looked at me smiling intensely.

“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” he declared. Natalie didn't say a word through all of these revelations she just sat there wide eyed mouth pursed.

“NAT ARE YOU HEARING THIS?” Mack yelled at her. Gesturing wildly.

Natalie closed her eyes. And breathed. She opened them serious again. Both Mack and I groaned.

“Does this-” she stopped cleared her throat and looked me dead in the eyes with a trace of amusement because I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Natalie sucks at acting. “Does this mean I have to give you the talk now?”

Mack laughed so hard and so loud I wanted to punch him.

“NO please-”

“Because I really know nothing about lesbian sex-”

“NATALIE STOP!” I covered my ears.

Natalie laughed along with Mack and I couldn't decide between glaring and laughing.

After breakfast we were opening the gifts we had gotten each other which mainly consisted of kitchen supplies for Mack, imported coffee stuff for Natalie, and as requested, clothes for me. I’m a simple person what can I say.

“Why clothes again?”

“Because you gave me so much, you guys gave me the world practically. There's nothing more I want from you.”

That gave me a group hug and natalie and mack in tears. But it was all true.

“I think I know what you want from us.” Mack said.

“What could I possibly want?” I asked.

“ THE SEX TALK ”

“NOOOOO”

And then we laughed and drank hot chocolate that Mack insisted on making from scratch. Because he’s annoying and likes to show us how much better he is at cooking. Every since we could afford it Mack has been a food snob.

Mack had gone to prepare the dinner, for us and bonus guest Brian like the obedient brother he was. When I was playing cards with Natalie she suddenly put them down, and for the second time today, shit was going down.

“Monica, can we talk now?” she asked smiling gently, as though she knew what was best. She does know what’s best.

I shrugged putting my cards down. “I don't have a choice anyways so sure.”

Natalie smiled and she took a breath and let it out. “You know, you can tell me anything right?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you and Thalia dating?”

I could be cliche and say I gagged, but I didn't and I wouldn't because that's implying I think poorly of Thalia and I don't. I stopped breathing though, and my face was warm. “No.” my hands went under the table tugging on the bottom of my sweatshirt.

“Oh. If you were, I would support you.”

“I Know.”

“Are you- do you think?” Natalie asked delicately, as though she would break something.

I wanted to roll my eyes and throw something at the same time, but I stayed neutral. “Am I what?”

Natalie scrunched her face together closing her eyes. She opened them looking like she was in pain from how awkward this was.“Gay?”

“I don't know I never thought about it.” I answer honestly. There was always something more important on my mind. But now that we are not in danger from the universe constantly trying to crush my will to live all the time, I have actual time to think about it. “Maybe. I’ve never really liked anyone. It’s a waste of time.”

“Then what about Thalia? I’ve never seen you like that with someone.”

“Thalia is my best friend.” I said it and I smiled, it was nice to say it.

“After me?” Natalie asked.

“No, you're not my friend. Natalie you are too much to me then that.”

She smiled. It was silent for a while. She started to say something but she leaned closer to me. “Brian and I are going to get Married when we have enough money.” She looked nervous.

I took a breath. I knew this would happen. Natalie would finally move on with her life like she was suppose to do. “I’m glad. You deserve someone that makes you happy.” I told her with a straight face.

She smiled looked up at me. “You do too.”

I think I was crying. I'm not sure.

“Thalia likes you. I can tell.”

“Oh.”

“Do you like her?”

“No.”

“no?”

“I hate her.”

“You don't.”

“I do.”

“You love her.”

“You're wrong.”

“I'm never wrong.” Natalie smiled. She was right about that. I looked at her and I know I was actually crying. Because maybe I do love Thalia. Is that wrong? Is it right? Do I love her? I don't know. I wish someone could tell me how I feel, but I don't at all because that would be stupid.

“Natalie.”

“Yes?” she was crying too.

“I don't know. I've never felt this way before.”

“It sucks huh?”

“No. It doesn't feel bad.”

“Really?”

“I think she likes me too, it's just I don't know what to do or think.” I looked at her we were still sitting around the coffee table the cards completely disregarded. “I’m scared.” I told her and it wasn't the first, second, fourth, or fifth time I’ve told her that.

She moved over to me and sat next to my side grabbing my cheeks and I expected her to tell me I shouldn't be scared, that it was all going to be okay but none of those words came out of Natalie’s all-knowing mouth. 

“Look I know that you're scared, and you shouldn't be. You should be frightened . But you should carry on and handle this just like when you're normally afraid. You have to dive head first. You just have to go ahead and do it. And when you're done you'll get butterflies and feel seasick. But it'll feel amazing, trust me.”

Then I smiled eyes still leaking like a faucet, and she hugged me. Then she told me to go upstairs and wash up for dinner and i did.

So I wrote this in here and here's how I’m feeling:

Frustrated? Confused?

 

January 1,

Natalie literally begged me to bring Thalia with me to Brian’s new years eve party. Which wasn’t a party it was Brian driving us to get milkshakes and watch the ball drop at his parents tacky and adorable, traditional American diner.

So I called Thalia and asked and her and she told me to hold while she yelled in portuguese with excitement and I heard her mom yell back through the phone.

“I can go.” she told me and I could hear the smile on Thalia’s face.

So when the four of us (Brian and my family)went to pick up Thalia, they were waiting outside in the car as I got out to to get her.

I stood outside in her lit doorway with the carbols, talking to Shannon.

“Don’t worry she wont be late she just wants to make an entrance.” Shannon laughed, as I pet Clyde.

“Oh I don’t doubt it one bit.” we laughed and the lights turned off, then back on, and Thalia was at the top of the stairs, and I would be lying if I said I was anything but amused and impressed.

Thalia smiled brightly wearing a thick pink coat, wool tights and a yellowish-brown dress. She looked amazing as usual, the blush the perfect color and of course, her iconic magenta lip gloss.

She had a smaller dog patterned purse with her. I have no idea where she finds them.

“Good bye mom I’m going out on the town!” she smiled and kissed her on the check leaving a decorative magenta stain.

“Be careful! Don't trust vans!”

Thalia smiled and followed me to the car. She sat next to me ellegantly as I sat unellegantly in the middle next to Mack, we were all squeezed into Brian’s black prius.

Mack smirked at me and I glared at him. Natalie laughed.

“See Monica’s making that face.” Natalie said to Brian. Brian smiled like the annoying add-on he is.

“Yep that's the one. She glared me down during spaghetti night.” he said.

“What face?” I asked feigning innocence.

“The one where you look like ‘do you even know what you're talking about.’ The harsh one.” Natalie supplied

“I don't make that face.”

“Thalia, does she make that face?” Mack turned to ask Thalia.

“Yeah. At least fifty percent of the time.” Thalia supplied.

“You fucking trader.”I smiled at her because she was laughing. Brian gasped.

“Language. There's children here.”

“That joke would work better if you could cover Mack’s ears.” Natalie said. We all laughed at that.

It was a fantastic start. We were finally at the diner after what seemed like hours of Thalia and Mack doing duets to old maroon five and I realized this was a horrible idea. But it really wasn’t because I would be lying if I said that wasn’t the best car ride ever. 

Once we were in the diner all settled in the booth we met some of brians family. Thalia introduced herself like she was a diplomat and it made me smile and roll my eyes at the same time.

“Mack why didn’t you bring a girl too?” asked Brian’s sister who was our ‘waiter’ while we sat in the biggest booth next to a beautifully retro jukebox. Brian had Natalie picking out music on it while they flirted. Adorable but not really because that my sister. So minus cute points.

Brian’s sister was about five six feet tall, had blonde hair and the same brown squinty eyes, she was wearing a lightsaber necklace, and I wondered if Brian’s whole family was composed of nerds.

“Okay, I could have brought a boy. You can’t judge me.” Mack said smiling. Thalia perked up at that, being the complete LGBT advocate she is.

“I like the way you think Mack.” this led to Thalia going into a whole discussion about how we are prisoners to a heteronormative society.

“Wow, you get this philosophical all the time?” Mack asked. Actually curious. I cut off thalia before she could answer.

“YES.” I groaned as I Talked over Thalia, she just laughed.

“You’re the only one who at least half listens.” Thalia supplied as she dipped her french fry into a vanilla milkshake, she has good taste.

“Awe. Can you get Monica to half listen to me when I’m talking?” Mack asked.

“You talk about the most boring shit. At least she’s talking about aliens or something.”

“Guy Fieri is not boring. How dare you talk about our lord and savior like that.” Mack got up and went over to Talk to Julia about the new star wars movie because ‘ julia will at least listen to me!’

This actually somehow miraculously led to me and Thalia alone as we talked about food network and the history of television in general and how it totally changed the whole world. And I sat there under the weird retro lighting in theis red leather chair, with the coca cola clock and the checked floor with Thalia who was basically under a spotlight in my eyes.

“I like listening to you talk.” I told her.

She smiled at me, her face blooming under the compliment. “I like it when you talk with me too and we can argue about ghosts- Oh by the way, I still think the automobile is more revolutionizing then the radio.” (this was a common argument we have.)

I looked at her with her black hair in this pony tail and her turtleneck dress, with her makeup done as usual. Her brilliant smile with her stupidly perfect teeth and her brown eyes that smiled with, as she looked ,not at me, into me. She’s this pretty and brilliant person who wants to view the world this special nice way and I appreciate her positive impact on my life. So I look into her and I smile.

“You have a very precise view of the world. I wish I could see it like you.” I tell her honestly.

She smiled, one of the biggest smiles I’ve seen her wear. She was probably using more than forty three muscles.

“Thank you.” she tells me and she lays her head on my shoulder, looks up into me sideways ,we go back to talking about the automobile and how it led people to new places and things. How it revolutionized the world forever, and this time I have no reason to disagree with her.

The night eventually came to an end and the ball dropped, it was a new year and we had school in week, but I couldn’t care at this moment. We drove Thalia home, she thanked us for the wonderful night and she was gone.

Brian stayed over and Mack told him the walls are thin and went to bed right after. I laughed really hard, then stayed up with Natalie and Brian; mindlessly having a conversation that we wouldn’t remember in the morning. After abit I retired upstairs to begin documenting my night.

Here’s how I’m feeling:

Revolutionary.

 

January 8

Today was a weird one.

So I stood up and I was in front of the class and I was looking at all their uncaring faces and I glanced at Thalia who looks at me smiling with a thumbs up. As obnoxious and as caring as ever. And I really don't care what these people think. I really don't. I know Thalia already likes me and I don't have to pretend with her. And I stared at my teacher and she looked intrigued but I couldn't care about her in my overall lifetime; she doesn’t have a spot in my timeline and neither does the rest of this class. I turned from the southern belle and stared with a knowing smirk at the class.

I began to recite my poem.

“Uterus this uterus is uterus a uterus political uterus statement uterus.” I said with a small grin.

I stared back at the sea of shocked faces and one smiling one. “It looks better on paper!” Thalia exclaimed as though it would help any of this from being awful but mostly so refreshingly rebellious that I couldn’t not smile.

I nodded sagely and went to sit down.

The teacher who was actually wearing cat glasses with a unironic chain attached to them to keep her from losing them as she pet her five adorable fat cats, or fed her goats, looked at me and at the class. She cleared her sagging old woman throat. “Well I didn't quite catch that can you repeat it?”

I repeated it standing from my desk. The teacher looks confused and shocked still.

“Um…” she began again I know she didn't get it that time and I was a little aggravated at that point.

“I can write it on the board.”

“Yes, please!”

I stood up and swaggered over to the board I uncapped the black marker and stuck the cap on the top. With false anger I began writing it in big bold letters. I was a graffiti artist, this whiteboard was my wall on the highway- or whatever canvas graffiti artists use.

I stood back at my art piece. It read “uterus this uterus is uterus a uterus political uterus statement uterus.”

I turned back to the class there was a few people who were frowning obviously upset, I bet you can guess who they were. Here’s a hint: white straight males. Then there was a few people who looked impressed and the rest of the class looks confused. I turn to the teacher, trying to keep the sly smile off my face. 

She still looked just as confused as the rest of the class. I almost wanted to laugh at these stupid situations I keep putting myself in. Before she could ask I quickly and gracefully uncapped the pen again and underlined the “this is a political statement.”

Half the class and my teacher “ooohhh”ed.

She cleared her turtle throat once more.

“That's very, um. Could you explain the meaning?” the teacher turned her head to the side, smiling a nervous phony smile that I would have paid to slap off.

“Yeah,” I shrugged still standing up there in front of everyone. “It's a political statement because, women are still undermined in politics, in everything really. And people never want to talk about the gender stuff, like periods, but they can draw penises and stuff. I think it's because people think it's embarrassing being a girl and being proud. And I hate that. I want girls to be proud of having a uterus or being a girl and not having them. just being a girl. And being proud. Don't let the government silence your pride. So that's my poem. It's a political statement.”

I finished standing there a little awkwardly, the teacher who was also awkward, said oh. And I expected complete silence. But of course the universe always has different plans for me.

Thalia legitimately stood up and started snapping and everyone laughed and started snapping too. Thalia looked like a beautiful fool standing there smiling widely at me. She looked proud. As if she was saying “that's my best friend!” And I looked at her and she smiled winking at me and I can't even describe how I felt. I felt a little seasick but I've never been on boat before. And I thought feeling sea sick is suppose to be bad. It isn't bad it's nice. I think I understood what Natalie was saying.

I clapped the pen back shut and stepped down from the spotlight and went over to my seat and slouched.

Thalia looked at me and smiled.

She leant over, her legs swung towards me. “I really liked it. I thought it was clever.”

“Yeah I know.”

Her smile wavered. I turn and looked at her, I showed her I was smiling back. Her smile came back strong.

The bell rang, then we had a whole class I couldn't pay attention to and it rang again and again. All the way until the end of the school day.

I met Thalia outside her last class, she and I walked out of school together. it was raining, I didn't bring my bike.

Thalia looked at me “I’m going to give you a ride.”

“Okay.” there's no use in arguing with Thalia. I don’t really want to either. I don’t think I could really argue with her anymore because she would look at me and I would probably cave in.

We were in her car for about ten minutes with no sound but our breathing the rain hitting the windshield and the low hum of some band she likes playing through her radio.

I looked at her concentrated face and she braked from the stop and go of city traffic.

“What song is this?” I asked her I had no intention of ever listening to this song again it was kind of an acquired taste and I didn’t like the singer's voice. But I knew Thalia liked it and I wanted to hear what she would say.

She smiled at me. “Cut your bangs, by girl pool.” She said it and she didn’t memorize it so if it were ever to play she could smugly say ‘oh I know this song’ just to sound pretentious or worldly. She just liked it.

“Cool.” I told her, and I let her talk about the band how interesting their style is until we pulled into the apartments street.

We finally got to my apartment, and I had realized Thalia drove me here, probably expecting me to declare my undying love for her in the rain or at least something like that.

It was tuesday and I didn't have much homework, the parking spot was also open so fate was on my side so it seems. I decided to take a chance I knew I’ve been wanting to make. “Want to come over?” I asked her.

She smiled using all forty three of her face muscles, showing her perfect teeth looking at me. “Sure, let me tell my mom.” she took out her phone and called her mom. I waited for her to finish as she talked in portuguese. I smiled looking at the rain.

Once she hung up she smiled at me again. And we got out of the metaphorical princess carriage ready to go to a metaphorical ball. And then get married or some shit.

I went into the apartment through the side staircase, it was still raining and the stairs were slippery almost like it had rained… Thalia slipped but like the true gentlemen or anyone with a reflex I grabbed her and she held my hand and smiled blushing lightly.

At least I think it was her skin and that it wasn't the blush she already had on.

Today she was wearing gold eyeliner and that magenta lip gloss. She was as pretty as ever, and I don't feel stupid for thinking that.

She didn't let go of my hand and I was happy she didn’t. I unlocked my apartment door, and I was hoping no one was home, and no one was.

She only let go of my hand so she could sit in the black ikea desk chair. She looked at me and I asked if she wanted coffee or something like the true gentleman or anyone with manners would do and she said yes.

“Half coffee half creamer with five excessive spoons of sugar right?”

“It's only three spoons of sugar shhhh.”

She looked so happy Just sitting there with me and I knew I did too. And when we finished making the coffee and decided on a movie to watch and went over to the ikea couch, she grabbed my hand again and I squeezed her hand back too. And I didn't know what I should do or say but all the sudden the movie seemed very quiet and Thalia turned to me and I looked at her as she smiled and looked into my eyes.

“I really like you.” she said and I looked into her, she was so sure of it, it was almost like she just wanted me to know and didn't care if I didn't like her back that way, she just wanted everyone to know. 

I wanted to say something but she let go of my hand and placed it on my shoulder near my neck, and I couldn't speak.

“Tell me you don't, if you don't say anything I’m going to assume you like me too,” she almost pleaded.

She took her hand off my clavicle and started to get up.  
The movie was still going on as she got up in front of the TV and looked at me, and the light from the Tv went around her, making her glow. she looked like an angel.

“I really really like you Monica, I just want you to know that. It can be romantic or platonic whatever you'd like.”

“I” I told her. And it sounded pathetic. I closed my eyes why did it have to be so hard. I opened them looking at her and she had bent down in front of my on her knees. She looked concerned, and here Thalia was making things easier for me again. I couldn’t stop myself from speaking the words finally getting out without grit “I adore you. I don't think saying I like you is enough. I don't know how I feel about the word love, it feels silly. I adore you, and I think you're the best person I have ever met. And I want to kiss you on my couch and hold your hand as we try to find out how this earth timeline works and how it led me to you.”

She looked at me stunned, but her eyes were not wide, they were soft and tender, she looked at me more, smiling like she always does. “That's romantic.” she smiled and grabbed my hand and we hugged, and I pulled her closer, setting my head in the crook of her neck.

“Do you want to be together?” she asked me.

“Yes.” I breathed into her neck.

She nodded and I felt it. I could hear both of us breathing, and I had realized the movie had ended.

She left not long after that and now I’m sitting here on my bed, looking at the slate gray duvet and trying to think of something poetic and romantic to write again, but I keep coming up short. I think that’s okay.

 

Here’s how I’m feeling:

In love.

 

January 30,

I woke up this morning with a cramp in my ovaries, and I looked down at the blood that was currently staining my bed sheets.

This really ruined my plans to masturbate, but it really explained why I had wanted to. Its funny how sometimes life has a simple explanation but we search for something much more complicated.

I got up, went into the bathroom and put a pad on, then I looked into the mirror at myself and I smiled. I thought about the sheets and I frowned, then I laughed because I saw my expressions change rapidly in the mirror. Like I was purposely making faces in the mirror just to make myself laugh, but I guess it had worked. 

I went and grabbed the now not so white 100% cotton sheets and went to the washing machine located near the kitchen. Natalie watched intently as I came down stairs with my sheets. 

“You look happy.”

“You too.”

She smiled. And I went through the family room into the kitchen and Mack was there looking at me as he ironed his tie. He glanced at the sheets and smiled.

“Oh was Thalia over last night?” asked Mack as he fixed his tie he has ironed.

I Laughed, “No she wasn't. And I don't think I would go that fast in my relationship.”

“Good. If you ever need a condom, you know who to ask. Ask Natalie.”

“Oh I won't be needing that trust me.”

After putting the sheets in the washing machine and clicking the buttons I shut it with my hip. And I looked up. I took a breath. For one of the first times ever, I truly believed I was where I needed to be.

I went back into the mismatch kitchen of dreams and I started to make tea, all we had was camomile. I went with it, maybe if I drank it really fast I wouldn't taste the utterly unpleasant bitterness. Fat chance.

It was fine though, because my brother had got donuts the day before from the grocery store, and I grabbed the last chocolate iced one as the tea kettle heated up. Having the last chocolate donut was a little victory. It was nice having one so early in the morning.

The new year is upon us, and with this last chocolate victory donut, My friends, Thalia, my family and one last semester of highschool left I feel almost invincible. I can feel the blood rush down when I get up to get the tea kettle and it's okay. Maybe at least I know I'm not dead. And I’m not pregnant. Not like that could happen.

And I go back upstairs to change into something ‘fashionably acceptable’ so we can go shopping for a new, less gross recliner. In my room under the ceiling with the glow in the dark stars, I hold the stones Thalia gave me, I see the Journal I forgot about from being so busy and I write this.

Who knows what this semester brings, I’ll get accepted to this state university like Thalia, I’ll go there in the summer. I’ll be nineteen this August and I’ll go on with my life. My sister will get married and go on with her life. My brother is either going to admit to being a raging bisexual, start a strip club, or finally be promoted to an actual person instead of an intern, then finally go on with his life. We were bound for great things despite the hard start.

I’ll continue writing my feelings out on this white sheet of paper to you with my 0.5 gel pen that will assumedly never run out, and I’ll try to make this earth timeline great no matter what.

Here's how I'm feeling:

Determined.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all have a wonderful year, and you keep growing like Monica. This is our earth timeline so we have to make it the best no matter what.


End file.
